


TWD Short Drabbles

by kaze_chan



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:34:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29391297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaze_chan/pseuds/kaze_chan
Summary: Just a collection of Daryl moments to fill in some gaps in certain episodes. There is no set amount and I will be adding a new chapter whenever I have one written. I will try to remember to put the episode title at the beginning of each chapter and they are not in any specific order.7x08 Hearts Still Beating10x10 Stalker
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Lydia, Daryl Dixon & Rick Grimes
Kudos: 8





	1. 7x08 Hearts still beating

**Author's Note:**

> Here again with a new fandom. Looking forward to the extend season 10 of The Walking Dead, and I was inspired to write small moments of H/C about everyone's favorite TWD archer, Daryl Dixon. Drop me a line to let me know what you thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that the end of 7x08 and 7x09 probably take place on the same day but for the sake of my fic, I assumed they leave for the kingdom the day after Rick and co arrive at Hilltop.

The group talked late into the evening, enjoying each other’s company. Rick smiled as he looked around the table at his family. It felt like months had gone by since that night with Negan, and his heart ached at the loss they had suffered.

_Abraham._

_Glenn._

His gaze shifted to Maggie and felt a lump form in his throat thinking about how hard it was for her and her unborn child. He would always feel guilty for the death of her husband and their friend, but he pushed that aside, concentrating instead on those around him. He needed to be strong for them, to make sure he didn’t loose anyone else or himself.

He scanned the faces around him, not really listening to the conversation, but rather looking for one in particular. When his search came up empty, he turned his gaze towards the darker corners of the room, hoping to see the familiar outline.

“He’s gone outside,” Michonne whispered, knowing exactly who Rick was looking for.

Rick gave her a small smile, ashamed he hadn’t seen him leave for himself.

_Daryl._

Though he may not have suffered the same fate as the other two, it had been just as bad. It was hard to sit by and watch as the Saviors dragged Daryl away, not sure if they would ever see him again. Their fears were amplified when Negan paraded their friend around Alexandria like a trophy, just because he could. It was a power move meant to intimidate and deter any further resistance, but it had the opposite affect. Daryl was one of them, and they were going to fight to get him back.

Rick had no words to describe the emotions that coursed through him in that moment when Daryl stepped out into the sunlight when they arrived at the Hilltop. For a few seconds he wasn’t sure the man was real. He pulled him into a tight embrace, needing to feel tangible contact to erase any doubts of hallucinations. By the force with which Daryl held him, it was obvious he too needed proof.

They’d spent the afternoon trying convince Gregory to join the fight but that man was more than happy playing a pawn to the Saviours. Afterwards, the group retreated to an outer building for a family reunion they had all desperately needed. They would be leaving at first light to meet King Ezekiel, but tonight was about family. There was so much going on that he only just noticed the archer had remained quiet and on the outskirts of conversations.

This would have been considered normal in the earlier days of their friendship, but through the years Daryl had become a voice of strength and logic, not afraid to voice his opinion when he felt it was needed, and Rick had grown to rely on the other man’s survival instincts. After all, Daryl really had been surviving a lot longer than the rest of them.

Feeling the cool breeze, Rick grabbed a jacket on his way out the door not sure where he should start looking, but trusting his feet to lead him in the right direction. He headed away from the trailers, knowing his friend would most likely be seeking solitude, and made his way to the other side of the forges, towards the darkened expanse of lawn nestled between the main house and the high wall.

Up ahead a lone figure sat by a small fire, his left arm resting of his knees while the other arm lay wedged between his body and his folded legs.

_Daryl._

It had taken the group months to earn this man’s trust, to make him feel safe and one of them. They’d all seen the scars on his back, the way he kept his distance, how he chewed his nails when he was nervous, and of course some of them had the pleasure of meeting Merle. It wasn’t hard to fill in the blanks, but they’d never openly talked about it. It was a mutual understanding among them that their past lives before the dead started walking wasn’t anyone’s business, and so no one talked about it. It wasn’t a healthy approach but these were different times.

But as it turned out, ignoring the elephant in the room was just what the archer had needed. They became a family in every sense of the word, something he knew Daryl had never really known. Daryl, for his part, had learned to trust the group, and his self-confidence had grown.

Knowing how much his friend had come personally, it angered Rick to see him beat down again, retreating into himself and shutting every one out.

“You should lie down before you fall over,” Rick spoke softly as he approached, noticing how the other man’s shoulders tensed.

“I’m good,” came the expected reply.

Looking his friend over, Rick could tell the man was anything but. He was pale, thin and the simple act of staying upright seemed to be taking all his concentration. Michonne told him he’d been shot during their capture and he could clearly remember all the blood that had soaked through the man’s black shirt. He’d learned from Jesus earlier the wound had been treated, but he doubted it the medical attention had been of high quality.

Rick shifted his gaze back to the fire and took a seat on the hard ground next to him, knowing how Daryl tended to shy away from attention. “I’m not going anywhere Daryl,” he hoped to reassure his friend, ignoring how Daryl slightly flinched at the movement. “Get some sleep.”

At first, he wasn’t sure Daryl was going to move, but the man eventually stretched out on his side, folding his left arm under his head as a pillow. Rick kept still, allowing the sounds of the fire to fill the silence. The faint voices of the rest of their family echoed through the night, but from this distance, all they could make out was the laughter. Daryl, unlike the rest of the group, had always felt more at ease in the woods, the walls of the communities making him feel more like a trapped animal. Rick could just imagine how claustrophobic his brother must have felt in the hands of the Saviors.

It didn’t take long before the sound of soft, rhythmic breathing could be heard along side the crackling of the fire. Rick ducked his head, a grin puling at the corner of his mouth and finally allowing some of his own tension to ease. He waited a little longer to make sure Daryl was fast asleep before pulling off his jacket and carefully draping it over his friend. It wasn’t much but at least it would offer some warmth.

With Daryl asleep, he took the time to finally get a better look at his brother’s condition. The corners of the white bandage were visible near his collarbone and faint bruises could been seen here and there on his arms and faces. His cheek bones were more defined than normal, and even in his sleep, the man looked utterly exhausted.

Taking in a deep breath, Rick adjusted the jacket again before bringing his knees up and clenching his fists. He would have his revenge on Negan. For Glenn, for Abraham, and for Daryl.


	2. 10x10 Stalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia helps Daryl back to Hilltop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone else feel a little cheated by the large jump between the end of 10x10 and 10x11? Here's a missing scene of how Lydia got Daryl back to Hilltop after his fight with Alpha.

Lydia concentrated on moving her feet, keeping her gaze focused ahead.

_One more step._

She repeated her mantra as she readjusted her hold on Daryl.

_One more step._

To say Daryl was heavy was an understatement. But still, she refused to let him fall knowing she would never be able to get him on his feet again. That had been hard enough the first time. But somehow, they’d managed to sling his good arm over her shoulder and the two set off in the direction of Hilltop, the closest of the communities.

_One more step._

When they’d started off, he was alert and able to hold some of his own weight. Granted it wasn’t much, but they made good progress. But as the hours went by she could feel him slumping, exhaustion from the blood loss and injuries making him start to drag his feet.

“We’re almost there,” she whispered not sure if the man could hear her, “almost there.”

Daryl did hear her through the fog that was slowly closing around his vision, and it gave him something to focus on. Something to hold on to. He was tired. He was in pain. But he couldn’t leave Lydia alone.

So he held on to whatever sliver of consciousness he could, and forced his legs to keep moving.

Lydia could feel her own strength fading just like the sunlight around her. It was getting dark and she had no idea if the Whispers were following. As they crested the last hill, she could see the clearing in the dimming light ahead through the trees, and the torches burning on the high wall by the gates to Hilltop like a beacon.

“Almost there, I can see the gate.” They managed a few more steps before Daryl’s foot caught on a tree root, sending them both crashing to the ground. Lydia felt air leave her lungs when she hit the ground hard. She felt winded but she managed to push herself up on shaking arms to her hands and knees.

“Daryl,” she crawled to his side, casting a glance towards the gates in the distance and then scanning the sounding woods. “Daryl, we need to move.”

She shook his shoulder lightly while she cast a quick glance behind them. “Daryl,” she shook him harder, her panic rising by the lack of response. Bracing herself, she grabbed hold of his torso and rolled him onto his back.

She rested a hand on his chest, relieved to feel the steady rise and fall. “Daryl,” she tried again a little louder.

He didn’t stir.

Looking back towards the gates, the torches shinning brightly in the growing darkness. She bit her lip nervously as she once again scanned the darkening woods around her again. Coming to a decision, she pushed herself to her feet, and headed towards the community gates at a brisk walk.

She wrapped her arms around herself to help block out the cooler night air as she stepped out from the tree line. There were a few walkers to the left, but they paid her no mind. She instead kept her gaze locked on the silhouettes she could see patrolling the wall.

“I need help,” she called out, coming to a stop in front of the massive gates. “Daryl’s hurt.”

She could hear whispering within the walls and more silhouettes appeared at the top, their weapons at the ready.

“Please.” She brushed her hair from her face, only now noting the blood stains on her sleeves. Daryl’s blood.

“How do we know we can trust you,” someone called from the high wall.

Lydia squinted up at the silhouettes, trying to make out their faces. “He fought Alpha and he’s hurt. Bad.” She glanced back towards the tree line. “Please help me.”

The silence that filled the air was stifling.

“He’s going die!” she screamed up at them in frustration. There were more hushed voices, but the big gates didn’t budge. “I thought you all cared about each other, that you were family.”

Once again she was answered by silence.

Angry, she turned and stalked back across the clearing towards the woods, towards Daryl. She wasn’t about to abandon one of the few people who actually cared about her. She quickly wiped a tear from her cheek and quickened her pace.

The loud grinding noise of the gates opening stopped her in her tracks, and she turned to find Alden and Yumiko striding out to catch up with her. She nodded silently, relief flooding over her, and led the way, her feet easily retracing her previous route.

Yumiko quickly killed the walkers near the tree line, and the trio cautiously entered the now darkened woods. Lydia could tell the other two were nervous, but she didn’t break her stride. She grew up out here. She felt more at ease out here than she ever did in the communities. She knew what to expect out here.

She slowed her pace when her eyes fell on Daryl’s prone form, lying in the dirt exactly where she’d left him.

“Shit,” Yumiko swore as she rushed to Daryl’s side, her hands quickly going to his neck, feeling for a pulse. Alden spared the man a quick glance before taking up a defensive position, his gaze fixed on the surrounding shadows, weapon held at the ready.

Lydia stood to the side, nervously rocking from one foot to the other as she chewed on her lower lip. “Is he….”

“He’s alive, but we need to get him back to Hilltop fast.”

**

Daryl felt warm and comfortable. He tried to move but his body felt like dead weight, his limbs not cooperating. He listened to the faint sounds around him, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He could hear faint voices of people talking, horses neighing and the steady sound of metal being pounded at a near by forge. This must be Hilltop.

He tried to piece together the few memories floating through fog. Finding the hoard, the cave collapse, his fight with Alpha, getting stabbed, and the last thing he remembered was Lydia.

_"We’re almost there, almost there.”_

He forced his eyes open, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the brighter sunlight that filtered through a side window. Slowly looking around confirmed he was indeed at Hilltop in one of the medical trailers.

“You’re awake.”

He turned his gaze in the direction of the soft whisper. Lydia sat in a tight ball on a chair in the corner.

“Thanks to you,” he answered back, his voice coarse from lack of us.

Slowly she stretched out her legs and cautiously moved towards his bed side, picking up a cup of water on the way. She silently held out the straw and Daryl took a few small sips, letting the cool liquid sooth his throat.

She set the cup back down on the bedside table and wrapped her arms around herself, not sure what to do next.

“You look like shit,” Daryl commented, noticing her dirty and blood stained clothes.

A small smile graced her features. “You’re one to talk,” she countered back in a soft voice. The extent of his injuries were sever and a few times during the night they weren’t sure he was going to pull through. But Daryl Dixon was a survivor.

“You plan on sticking around?”

Lydia slowly bobbed her head. She’d made her choice when she chose to save him and not her mother. _They weren’t perfect, but they were people, and that’s all she ever wanted._

“Good,” his eyes slowly drifted shut, fatigue pulling him under again. 

She watched him drift off, before moving back to the corner chair. She listening to the array of voices filtering through the thin walls. People talking about regular day things, children laughing and playing, the horse nickering in the stable, the constant hammering of the blacksmith. This is what Henry had wanted to share with her, this is what living should be like. She let the sounds pull her to sleep, feeling a sense of ease and peace she had never known before.

When Yumiko checked in on them a little while later, she was pleased to see Lydia had fallen asleep. She tried in vain last night to get Lydia into the house to wash and sleep in a bed, but the girl refused to leave the archer’s side. Carefully, Yumiko grabbed a spare blanked and draped it over the girl’s small shoulders, before readjusting the blankets around Daryl. She quickly checked his forehead for signs of a fever, before stepping back out of the trailer.

Despite what some people still thought of Lydia, she had just saved them all by bringing Daryl back, and that was something she was never going to forget.


End file.
